capacity, limits, and the boundary trap
I have always heard the word "boundary" as a way to start asserting yourself, to consciously claim your space. And I understand why that language appeals to so many of us—especially those of us who have spent years abandoning ourselves, saying yes when we meant no, letting others' needs eclipse our own.
In my training in Archetypal Somatics™, I was introduced to a new framework, and the question emerged: What if we thought less about boundaries and felt into capacity and limits?
The Boundary Trap
More often than not, I see the concept of boundaries used as a way to not deal with one's own shadow. By keeping the behavior or thing I don't like and projecting it "out there," I can say "you can't have access to me because of said behavior"—when really, that's mine to deal with.
We can stay in dysfunctional patterns and continue to deceive ourselves and continue to suffer. We throw up boundaries to avoid receiving what is actually inside us, wanting to be integrated.
The thing we might be trying to keep out is actually inside of us.
I essentially didn't even know I had boundaries. Depending on the situation, I'd swing between extremes—sometimes completely porous, abandoning myself, saying yes when I meant no. Other times I'd become one big boundary, with so much energy hiding behind it, rigid and walled off. All the issues were "out there." That kept me stuck. The boundaries kept getting pushed. The dynamics still got under my skin. It left me feeling exhausted—a major energy leak, draining me from both directions.
When we invite someone in when our capacity is at our limit, and then tell them they are doing it wrong or need to change, we are essentially being unloving or hurtful. We need embodied awareness of our capacity.
Rigid boundaries can’t give us what we are actually seeking. The empowerment and sovereignty come from knowing my own limits and capacity. When I know these, there really is no need for those boundaries that can turn rigid and lull us into a false sense of safety.
I don't want to trash boundaries—I just think the concept can get misguided. I'm not talking about protecting yourself from actual harm, abuse, or violation. Those situations absolutely require clear boundaries. I'm talking about the way we often use boundaries to avoid our own shadow work—to keep projecting outward what's actually asking to be met within.
The Shift to Capacity and Limits
Limits are not boundaries. Limits are about how close, how much, how long—what we can actually hold right now.
When I learned to know when I was at my capacity—meaning if I am at capacity, I have reached my limit to handle a situation—I didn't need to throw up a boundary. If I am at capacity and act upon something or allow someone to be close, that is essentially my issue, not the other person's.
This is radical responsibility.
It can be hard at first, especially for those of us who rush out to help and be involved in other people's lives, caught in the hopes and expectations that come from these old outdated pathways. Other people may even feed this role.
One of the reasons this new framework really helped me was that it got me out of those extremes. When I learned the capacity and limits of my own inner ground—my sacred space—I found my voice. A voice that wasn't performative, playing a role, grasping after something material like achievement.
Sacred space isn't something we create—it's what's already here when we stop defending. A quality of presence, of being with what is. Not a wall keeping things out, but a way of meeting what comes.
The Somatic Work
Our energy wants to be felt. We do this somatically, not with thinking.
When we learn and remember to allow the energy to be here with us, to include it, our consciousness expands. What bothered us might not even bother us anymore.
Sometimes we throw up boundaries to avoid feeling what's inside us. That same dynamic comes up again and again until we can be with our own energy—which informs our limits and capacity.
When we turn toward our own energy, when we know our limits and capacity from the inside, we don't need others to change. We take responsibility for our own state. The dynamic can finally shift because we're meeting what's ours.
The "boundary" becomes unnecessary because we're not defending against our own energy anymore. We're with ourselves. We know our capacity. We can respond authentically instead of reactively.
This is sovereignty. This is maturity. This is what it means to hold sacred space—not keeping the world out, but knowing ourselves so deeply that we can meet what arises with presence and truth.
